


The Bonfire

by rae_is_typing



Series: Rae's One Shots [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Bad Friends, Bonfires, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Jess is a terrible friend, Ketamine, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pepper Spray, Police reports, Sexual Assault, Underage Drinking, attempted statutory rape, don't be like jess, protective rdj, sorry to all the cool Jess's out there, toxic friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 02:04:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21468271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rae_is_typing/pseuds/rae_is_typing
Summary: tumblr request: Can you do a Robert downey jr x daughter!reader where she ends up doing drugs or drinking alcohol and Robert is concerned, slight angst please?!?!?!Your friend invites you to a party. You meet a guy, and he tries to take advantage of you.
Relationships: Original Male Character(s)/Reader, Robert Downey jr & reader, original female characters & reader
Series: Rae's One Shots [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1357186
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	The Bonfire

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING
> 
> Attempted sexual assault, underage drinking, nonconsensual drug use, swearing. 
> 
> Seriously, don't read if it upsets you.

"You wanna go to a bonfire with me after school?" 

You look up from your phone to see your best friend, Jess, smirking down at you. She tosses her bag on the table in the library, plopping down on the chair as she does.

"I don't know, I'll have to talk to my dad."

"C'mon, Y/N, live a little. You don't have to ask him permission to go out." she huffs, rolling her eyes. 

"He's kind of my legal guardian and my father?" 

"Whatever, it'll be fucking lit though, girl. You have to come!" She begins at her normal boisterous volume before leaning in close and whispering "This college boy I've been talking to really wants to meet you. He's super hot, and really smart. You'll love him."

To further her point, she pulls up his instagram. Pictures of a tan man with his shirt off and sweatpants almost falling off of his hips show up, pictures of him smoking, and pictures of him with a ton of other boys. You try not to scrunch up your face at the pictures. Standard fuck boy. 

But, hey, it's never nice to judge. 

Most people think that you're stuck up being the daughter of an A-List actor. And being a very quiet and hardcore introvert that would rather stay home than do anything certainly doesn't help that image either. 

You look up at Jess with your eyebrows raised. She's nodding with the biggest shit-eating grin on her face. "You've gotta at least meet him, I showed him a couple pics of you and he was practically drooling."

"You told him that I'm 17, right?"

"What he doesn't know what hurt him." Jess says, putting her phone down. "Besides, you're 18 in a month. Why does it matter?"

You bite your tongue. Jess is always bothered when you answer her 'obviously rhetorical' questions.

"Fine. What should I wear?" 

Her grin grows wider. "Something hot."

Something hot turns out to be a cropped sweater, torn up high-waisted jeans, and a cute pair of boots. You decided that wearing extravagant makeup would make up for the simple outfit.

After thoroughly checking yourself over, you finally head downstairs to wait for Jess.

"Where are you going all dressed up?" Your dad asks, looking up from his laptop 

"Jess is taking me to a party," You say.

He narrows his eyes slightly. "Who's going to be there?"

"Jess and some of the other seniors." You lie. A deep sense of anxiety rises in your chest. Lying to your dad had never ended well, but Jess said to leave everything up to her and that's what you're doing. 

"Hm. Alright. What time are you going to be home?"

"I'm not sure, whenever Jess said we'd leave whenever I wanted to."

"Okay, sweetie. Have fun. But no drugs, no drinking, no boys. But if you do something, be safe about it."

You hold back a smile. "Ew, dad, no boys." Lie.

"No girls either." He tacks on, pointing at you. 

You let out a genuine laugh. "Yes, dad." 

He stands up, giving you a quick side hug and a peck on the forehead. "Call me if you need me. I'll be up ‘til you get home. Do you have your pepper spray?"

"Yep." You pat your front pocket that's concealing the small black canister. You doing you'll need it, but it's always nice to have.

In the back of your mind, you know that Jess'd be pissed if you called your dad. Something about not telling the adults where we are because they'll ruin all the fun. Besides, there was no way that you'd need to call your dad. 

You wait on the porch, looking at the boy's insta a little more until Jess pulls up in her dad's baby blue ferrari. 

"Hop in, loser!" She shouts, revving the engine. You smile, and get in the passenger side. 

"I can't believe your dad let you borrow this." You admit, glancing around the interior.

She giggles. "He didn't."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "The last time you didn't tell your dad you borrowed his car, he called the police."

"Ugh, you worry too much. We'll be fine," She groans, pulling back onto the road. 

It doesn't take long for you to notice something's off. She swerved over the line more than once, there’s a fresh butt in the ashtray surrounded by ashes, and she’s taking a swig of what you assume is not water every few minutes. 

"Jess, do you want me to drive there?" You ask, concern seeping into your voice. 

"What? Fuck no! You suck at driving!" She snaps, speeding up. 

You sit back in your seat, trying not to freak out as she illegally passes the person driving in front of her, narrowly missing the oncoming traffic. It was rare that the backroads were this clear, Jess was just being impatient. 

The cars honk as she passses, flipping her off. She rolls her eyes, speeding up even more, turning off her headlights. 

"Why'd you turn of your lights?" You ask.

She shrugs. "They're too bright,"

"Okay," You say slowly, sitting even farther back in your seat. There's no point in arguing with her when she gets like this.

Luckily, Jess doesn't wreck her dad's car with you inside of it. The two of you pass some more people, but then come to a long dilapidated road with no one on it. The only thing you see is a run down gas station with really cheap gas and a few people looming around it. 

She slams on the brakes to park the car, laughing as you get thrown forward. You wince, rubbing at where the seatbelt dug into your skin. 

"Alright, bitch, let's go." Jess says, getting out of the car. You follow her closely. She's wearing a mini skirt and a bralette with what looks like six inch pumps. Her long bleach blonde hair is in two dutch braids, and her makeup is superb as always. But something is different. Her normally smaller lips are now either very swollen or fake. 

"Jess, did you get your lips done?" 

"I did! Dad finally paid for them. Do you like them?"

"Are you sure it's okay for you to be wearing makeup after you just got them done?" 

Jess's face goes from expectant to angry is a second. "Listen, Y/N you're not my mom. Besides, that's not what I asked."

"I mean, they do." you correct quickly, not daring to add onto the comment.

She immediately perks up. "Thank you! Now, let's go meet the boys!"

She grabs your forearm and leads you through a crowd of people. Now that the sun is down and the only thing lighting the area is the bonfire, you can barely make out faces in front of you. You see multiple people making out, some people dancing to the extremely loud music, a small group is smoking by the fire, and someone bent over a table. When they stand up, they sniff and rub their nose. Your anxiety spikes.

Jess did not tell you that coke was going to be involved. You don't care if people smoke or juul; you're around it enough, so it doesn't bother you very much. However, your parents have done a great job of keeping you away from harder drugs and their users. Coupled with your older brother's and your father's history with it, you're better off steering clear.

Along with your anxiety, your anger spikes. She knows damn well how you feel about harder drugs. But she's your best, and only, friend. Giving her the benefit of the doubt is the only thing you can do. 

She pulls you to a table. There are a few people gathered in front of it, and two people behind it.Those who are behind it are busy mixing drinks and making conversation. 

"Vince, Dakota!" Jess calls in a sickly sweet voice. "We made it!"

Two boys turn around. From what you can see, the boy from the insta you saw earlier is donning a leather jacket, a shirt, and jeans. The guy next to him is wearing torn up jeans and a sweatshirt with a hat.

Hat guy opens his arms. "Hey, babe." 

Jess practically runs into his arms. He wraps his arms around her waist and immediately puts his tongue into her mouth. Insta guy steps forward. 

"I'm Vince, you must be Y/N." He smiles, holding out a hand. 

"I am." You say, shaking it. You're surprised. Most frat boys don't seem this polite. 

"Jess told me so much about you. And I can't say I'm disappointed."

You chuckle. "I can't say the same. She told me about you this morning."

"She show you my insta?" 

"She did, yeah."

He visibly cringes. "Don't believe anything you see there. I'm not actually an asshole." 

"I hope not." You laugh, relaxing a bit. He seems nice enough. 

"You want a drink?"

"Oh, no thanks. I do-" Before you can say anything, he turns to one of the guys behind the table. 

"Remy! Get me two rum and cokes. Make it a lil extra for the lady." He turns back to you and smiles again. "Don't worry, it'll help you relax a little."

You furrow your brows, a bad feeling settling into your stomach. "Okay."

No drinking. Your dad's words echo in your ears. One drink can't hurt. Right? It's not like you haven't had any booze before. But you are not comfortable drinking around a ton of strangers like this. Maybe you can dump it out while he isn't looking and get a water instead... 

You glance over Vince to see what that Remy guy was making. You see him dump liquids into a cup, turn to the side and take out something small. He taps it into the drink and stirs with something that looks like a spoon before throwing the spoon on the ground and handing Vince the small thing and setting the drink to the side. He begins to make another drink. 

Alarm bells begin to go off in your head. What did he hand Vince? What does 'a little extra' mean anyways? What did he put in your drink? Should you really drink it when you get it?

Your thoughts of concern are interrupted when Vince hands you the drink. You know a little about alcohol. Hell, Jess made you do a few shots when you were studying together once. You take a sip. Bitterness spread throughout your mouth, making you want to gag.

You try not to scrunch up your face as you give a small "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, what did Jess tell you about me?" Vince asks, leading you away from the drink table as your friend and his friend are still making out. 

"She told me you're a college student. And she showed me your insta. That's kinda it. What'd she tell you?"

"She told me you're the daughter of RDJ." 

There it is. You feel the minute amount of interest fade. Of course he was only interested in you because of your dad and his money. Seeming to sense his mistake, Vince explains himself. 

"I'm only mentioning that because my uncle worked with him before."

Your head snaps to stare at him. "You're joking."

He grins. "Nope. My uncle is head of production."

"That's crazy! I think I met him actually."

"Anyways, she told me you were very beautiful. She wasn't lying."

Heat rises in your cheeks for a moment. The preceding feeling of discomfort slowly fading into the background as he keeps talking. He’s nice, and a little attention never hurt anyone.

“She also told me that you won the state dance competition with your solo.”

“Yeah, she definitely helped. I couldn't have done it without her,”

“So you’re talented, humble, and beautiful. Jess didn’t tell me you were perfect,”

You can’t help but smile. “I have been told by many people that I am, but I never believe strangers on the internet.” 

“Smart too. The whole package.” 

You don’t respond, only shiver slightly. You wrap your hands around your exposed middle, minding the mostly full drink in your hand.

"Are you cold? Lets go stand by the fire." He says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You try not to tense up as he does this. That's a step too far. But he's being so nice. And he's warm. What's the harm in a little contact? You're surrounded by people, and a fire. He won't do anything. 

The two of you walk the small path that leads to the fire. There are a few small clusters of people hanging by the path nurding blunts and drinks. The unmistakable smell of weed and smoke clogs your nose. At least it smells better than your drink. 

There are speakers right next to the fire. The bass shakes the ground as rap music is blasted over every conversation. With the added light, you can make out Vince a lot better. He has curly blonde hair, light skin that's glowing orange, and green eyes. His cheekbones sit high and he has a cute button nose. 

He turns his face to you after a minute and begins to speak. You can barely make out his voice. You lean in closer, and still can't hear him. You frown, shake your head and gesture to your ears when he gives you a confused look. 

"I can't hear you!" You explain as loudly as you can, pulling away from him and still gesturing to your ears. He nods, puts his arm back around you and leads you back to the parking lot. You take another sip of the drink, trying not to look too rude, but you regret it almost instantly. The bitterness is more prominent, and your stomach begins to churn. You scrunch your face up this time. 

"You good?"

"Yeah, not a huge fan of coke s'all." You lie. 

"Do you want me to get you something else, babe?"

Babe? You're too put off by the term to do anything other than politely decline. 

He leads you to a bench by the parked cars. You sit down, he even takes off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders. 

"Thanks." 

"No problem. Where were we?" He asks, leaning in closer to you. You pull back instinctively, scooting down so you’re sitting at the end of the bench. You put a pleasant smile on your face. 

"I was going to ask you about what you're studying in college." 

"Business management." He says bluntly. His face twists for a moment before he stands up. "I'll be right back, babe." 

The moment he walks away, you dump the rest of the drink out. You're beginning to feel light headed. You take a deep breath and chalk it up to not being used to drinking. The feeling of discomfort comes back. It's a deep tug in your get that's keeping you alert. You hate it, and burrow into the jacket to self soothe. Something rattles in the pocket. 

You bite your lip. Snooping is bad, but you have to find out what it is. Your shove your hand in the pocket and pull out a small bottle. Using your phone's flashlight, you can make out what it is. 

It's an orange pill bottle full of white powder. 

You check the other pocket immediately. You pull out three condoms. The sound of footsteps make you shove your findings back in the pockets. All you can think of now is getting the hell out of here. No way that white powder was for something other than drugging up someone here, and you know damn well you want no part of it. 

Your hand goes to your own front pocket. The jeans you have on have very small front pockets that easily stores your pepper spray. which you are now very thankful for. 

"Sorry bout that baby. Had to take a piss." Vince sits back on the bench, smiling at you.

"That’s fine. Look, I really had fun talking to you, but I don't think this is gonna work out. You seem really nice, but I'm still in high school, and you're in college," You begin. Vince cuts you off by leaning in close to your face and tilting his head. His breath reeks of alcohol and something else, he closes his eyes, lifting a hand up close to your neck.

"It doesn't bother me."

"I'm also 17-"

"I won't tell if you won't, baby doll." 

"I still don't want t-" 

You're cut off by lips being pressed onto yours. You make a sound of surprise and objection. You lift your free arm and attempt to push him off of you. He doesn't move. He keeps moving his lips against yours, and panic rises in your chest. He wraps his other arm around you, his other arm occupied by cupping your face. You throw your head forward far enough to get him to jerk in surprise. He lets out a pained groan. 

"Yo what the fuck? We were having a good time! The fuck you do that for?"

You don't answer, letting adrenaline take over. You stomp off towards Jess's car. A hand grabs your shoulder and turns you around. 

"Y/N, let me show you a good time. You finished your drink right?" He pulls you close to him, hands now cupping your ass.

You don't think, only react. You knee him as hard as you can in the crotch and whip out your pepper spray. 

"Touch me one more fucking time and I'll mace your fucking face. Try me." You threaten, voice booming with your rage. Your light-headedness is now on the back-burner as you come to realize what the white powder in the bottle is. Ketamine. It explains the bitterness of your drink and the way it made you feel. If he didn't put it in your drink, then he had someone else do it for him, and he was probably supplying. That bastard wanted to drug you. 

The only answer you get is a pained groan as he doubles over, clutching his dick. You don't waste any time jogging to the cars. 

As luck would have it, you spot Jess and hat guy leaning against a white G-Wagon. 

"Jess!" You call in relief. Once you explain, she'll definitely take you home. You jog to her, still clutching the pepper spray in your hand. 

She turns to your cry of relief. The two separate, and Jess tugs down her skirt quickly.

"What do you need?" She snaps, one arm snaking around hat guy’s neck and shoulders. "We were in the middle of something.”

"You need to take me home." You breath out, unable to keep your voice from wavering. 

"I don't need to do anything, Y/N."

"You said that we could go home whenever I got really uncomfortable. That's the only reason I came. Jess, please. I'll explain in the car."

"No, we're using my gas. Stop telling me what to do."

"I'll give you gas money, can we just leave?"

She lets out a long groan. "What happened that hurt your precious feelings?" She turns to you, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Vince tried to drug me. I found white powder and condoms in his jacket. The drink he gave me tasted really bitter, and he forced himself on me." You can't keep the tears from your eyes as you say it out loud.

“Oh, get over it! At least you got some this time, and at least he was gonna use protection." She exclaims, turning back to hat guy once again. 

You were gobsmacked. What the hell?

"Jess, please."

"Jess please." She mocks, now letting go of hat guy completely. She walks until she's right in front of you. She puts a finger on your chest, punctuating each thing she says next with a tap right between your collarbones. "Maybe if you let it happen, you'd actually like it. People have sex all the time. Stop bitching to me about each little thing that goes in your life and get laid! It helps! Find your own way home, dumb bitch." 

With that, she turns and goes back to hat guy. "Way to tell her, baby." He says, going in for another kiss. 

You stand there, shocked. You're frozen. You can't move until you do. You just start to walk. 

You walk passed all the cars and down the road you came on. If you remember correctly, the gas station is only a little ways away from the bonfire. Still clutching the pepper spray, you pull out your phone, hoping and praying for signal. 

Nothing. 

You want to cry, and you do. The shock of the past half hour comes to a head and you start to ugly sob on the side of the road. You know to prepare for a date-raper, but your best friend being a complete bitch? Maybe you should've seen it coming... Maybe this whole thing was your fault. 

The very second you get signal, you call your dad. It's like you're on autopilot. You can always trust him to pull through when you need him.

"Hey, sweetie. What's going on?" He asks, a sleepy tone ringing in your ear. That only makes you cry harder. 

"Y/N? What's wrong? Where are you?"

"I- He. Dad, Vince, he- and Jess didn't. Oh, my god." 

"I can't understand you, Y/N. Take a deep breath, what happened."

"This guy aost drugged me and Jess isn't taking me home."

"What?" He growls. You can't even begin to imagine his face. You choke out a sob. 

"He had ketamine or coke or something in his jacket and condoms and he forced himself on me and I didn't know what to do so I kicked him and almost pepper sprayed him. I tried to tell Jess, but she told me I should've let it happen and that she couldn't take me home."

"I'm going to kill them both." He growls. "Where are you?"

"I'm on a road."

"Do you know where?"

"No," You keep walking. You haven't seen a single car drive passed in the past twenty minutes. 

"Okay, is there anywhere you can get to that's safe?"

"There's a gas station."

"Go there, and send me your location. I'm coming to get you, okay?"

"Kay."

"Stay on the phone with me until I'm there."

"Okay," You don't say anything else. you quickly send him your location over text. 

"I got it, sweetie, don't worry. I'm coming. Did you have anything to drink?"

"He got me a drink. Something mixed, I don't remember. He told the guy to put something extra in it. I think that he gave the guy who made it something to put in it."

You can hear your dad breathing deeply on the other end, clearly trying to stay calm so only one of you is freaking out. 

"How much did you drink?"

"I thought it tasted really bitter so took a couple sips and dumped the rest out when he left me alone for a couple seconds." Tears are still streaming down your face, but you have stopped outright sobbing. 

"Okay, good. That's good. How are you feeling?"

" Light headed. Cold. I have a headache."

"Do you feel disoriented at all?"

"Kinda."

"Did you do any drugs?"

"No, but most of the other people were."

"Alright, sweetie. Good on you for not doing that. Are you to the gas station yet?"

You look up, and can make out the lights of the station. "I can see the lights."

"I'm almost there Y/N. Don't worry,"

"How? It took Jess 20 minutes to get here."

"Don't worry about it, I didn't get caught that's what matters," He jokes. 

You huff a small laugh and sniffle right after. "Are you actually gonna kill them?"

"If I had better lawyers I would." 

You can't help but smile. "You can go to the dark web," 

"Maybe, sweetie."

Suddenly, the headlights of a speeding car come into view. "I see headlights, dad. Is that you?"

"Is that you standing on the side of the road covering your eyes?"

The car pulls off to the shoulder of the road with the warning lights on. As soon as it stops, your dad jumps out. He runs over to you, enveloping you in his arms. Cradling the back of your head, he presses your face into his shoulder. He doesn't give a single fuck that makeup is getting smeared all over his expensive clothes, he only cares that he can help now. 

"It's okay, honey, I'm here." 

Now that you're safe, you can't hold back. You sob heavily into his shoulder. He shushes you, rubbing your back at the same time. 

"I've got you now, you're going to be okay."

You clutch the back of his shirt, never wanting to let go. "Can we go home?" You mumble into his shoulder. 

"Do you want to report the incident?" 

You shrug. "I don't think there's anything to report."

"Drug use and possession. Supplying alcohol to minors. Could probably get them for the bonfire, too. If it is ketamine, we could get him for that."

"Oh,"

Robert sighs. Reporting is the best way to go, but knowing the police, it could go nowhere very fast. However, money does talk. So does threatening social ruin. 

"We don't have to do it right now, but we need to soon."

You only nod into his shoulder. 

"Let's go to the car, you're shaking like a leaf." He leads you to the warmer car, even though he knows the shaking is more likely due to the shock. 

"Your blanket is in the back. Do you want it?"

You nod. You think it's incredibly childish that you need to keep a weighted blanket in the car, but it does help. You panic whenever you're being chased by paprazzi, or going to the airport (fuck planes and people honestly), or just sometimes when things are going wrong in life. But you still do because it helps.

He hands you the blanket. You wrap it around your shoulders as he begins to drive off. "Did you get his name?" He asks gently. 

"Vince, he um, he said his uncle is head of production at marvel and he said that his uncle and you have worked together before..."

You can barely make out your dad's knuckles turning white from gripping the wheel so hard. 

"I know who that punk is. I'll have him ruined, Y/N."

"Okay," You say softly. There was no talking him out of this. 

On the way back to the house, four police cars speed down the same road you're driving on, all of them to the bonfire you had left. None of them stopped to pull you over. 

You wrap the blanket tighter around your shoulders, knowing that you’ll have to deal with all the repercussions of tonight for the next few days. Jess will probably accuse you of calling the police and blast you on social media, your dad will find a way to blacklist Vince from every respectable employer in LA, or maybe even California, and you’ll have to report the incident to the police.


End file.
